


Red light, white incense, golden sunrise sea

by PTWL



Series: Kinktober-2019 [16]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), A bit sad, F/F, Frottage, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, Kinktober 2019, Nipple Play, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Slavery, Vaginal Fingering, Worldbuilding, Zagaqas is it's on tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-11-24 18:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTWL/pseuds/PTWL
Summary: Raxë woke up before dawn with a deadweight on her chest. Her partner for tonight had fallen asleep on her petite yet muscled bosom. She is beautiful, the woman she paid for, that Zerya. Large-breed like most zagaqasi orc-blooded slaves are. Her skin is dark orange and spotted with vitiligo, just like hers, as it’s common on her land. Powerfully built yet soft to the touch. Raxë breathes in the scent of her carefully oiled hair. It smells of exotic herbs brought to the bazaar by long galleys. Zerya stirs above her, much larger than Raxë’s short form, and she nuzzles lazily between her breasts, mostly unconscious.Outside, the lousy sounds of the red light district go dull as the city comes back from its decadent craze and to its daily activities. Stalls open and the poor free children groan as they have to get out of bed. Cries from seafarers making it to safe heave and goods being unloaded across the many harbors. A late-night patrol will find a dead body, stabbed to death in a back alley and they’ll cover it up quickly. The wail of shackles will fill the ever sizzling breeze.[Day 16: Nipple Play | Frottage | Sixty-nine ]





	Red light, white incense, golden sunrise sea

**Author's Note:**

> Ultra omega dupper late but here I am! I've been out this weekend too and then I was hit by fd (fatdepression) but I managed to do this somehow!  
Enjoy!

Raxë woke up before dawn with a deadweight on her chest. Her partner for tonight had fallen asleep on her petite yet muscled bosom. She is beautiful, the woman she paid for, that Zerya. Large-breed like most zagaqasi orc-blooded slaves are. Her skin is dark orange and spotted with vitiligo, just like hers, as it’s common on her land. Powerfully built yet soft to the touch. Raxë breathes in the scent of her carefully oiled hair. It smells of exotic herbs brought to the bazaar by long galleys. Zerya stirs above her, much larger than Raxë’s short form, and she nuzzles lazily between her breasts, mostly unconscious.

Outside, the lousy sounds of the red light district go dull as the city comes back from its decadent craze and to its daily activities. Stalls open and the poor free children groan as they have to get out of bed. Cries from seafarers making it to safe heave and goods being unloaded across the many harbors. A late-night patrol will find a dead body, stabbed to death in a back alley and they’ll cover it up quickly. The wail of shackles will fill the ever sizzling breeze.

She feels the slave grunt, finally awake. Her eyes look almost golden and she must be at least a few years younger than her, since half-orcs mature noticeably faster than half-elves. She stretches in Raxë’s fibrous arms and hooks hers around her neck. She flexes one of her legs, foot rising. “Hope you had a pleasant sleep, my lady.” She whispers politely and smiles as Raxë combs her chestnut hair with her fingers. “You are too kind to me.” There is something sad to her golden eyes.

“Don’t be foolish. You didn’t do me a single wrong that I must punish.” That’s true. Zerya has been gentle and compliant on her even since before she chose her when she was waiting in the waiting room and served her spiced wine. Maybe a bit cheeky, grasping her forearms or strong shoulders in every chance, but it’s not like Raxë dislikes her harsh training being cherished.

Raxë has been with many whores over the years and she knows that wistful yearning in her gaze well. She won’t buy her to free her and allow her to stay at a tiny attic above a bakery on the lowest district. And both of them know. It’s not like Zerya needs it to be her, just a getaway. “Still kinder than most.” She argues before Raxë kisses her and her eye-lids shut as Raxë draws her tongue inside her mouth.

She traces the outline of her tusks with the tip of her tongue and the prostitute chuckles at her. She really doesn’t seem to be much against an early morning round before Raxë must abandon the room for clean-up. She gasps as Raxë holds her hips, making her grind into her thigh and knee. Her sex is already wet and ready and it leaves a piece of damp evidence with every move on her thigh. Raxë nibbles at her wine-red nipples as she guides her, easing her as she grinds against Raxë’s much smaller frame. Raxë can hold her weight without issue and, judging by Zerya’s look, it amuses her. So be it. Raxë adores being amusing.

She gnaws at Zerya’s chest, breathing the scent of her bathing oils. Raxë carries on teasing at her smooth skin until it looks dark from blush and her nipples become hard and pointy. Zerya moans and she slides over Raxë’s thigh, seeking some sort of comfort and pleasure from it. Seems like it doesn’t suffice her because she opens her eyes and glances at her customer pleadingly through dark lashes.

“Hush, my dearest…” She caresses her aureola making circles with her thumb tenderly. Then she gives her a harsh pinch, twisting it between her fingers, but releases her soon since she doesn’t want to bring her any actual distress. Zerya whines, lips shaking in an almost pained grimace. “Lay down for me, love, and open up.”

Zerya’s fingers brush her nape as they part ways and she leans down, waiting for her. Her skin is a map of orange and cream patches. Raxë almost feels like taking up a quill and outlining the borders of their patches like she did with her friends as a child, living in the Priory of the Nine Swords. Raxë stands and stretches her arms above her head, rolling her shoulders. Then she walks, Zerya’s glance fixed on her, until she stops by her head.

She drops to one knee next to her head. “You know what to do.” She rumbles as her other knee traps the girl’s head between them. She still has to lower her weight but Raxë has other plans too so she leans forward so she can face Zerya’s dripping sex. “Aren’t you sweet?” She whispers against her damp folds when she feels her large hands grasping her hipbone. Raxë’s lips brush her with every syllable and Zerya hums. “I’m going to sit, are you ready, dear?” She asks and licks her slit with the tip of her tongue.

Below her, the girl breathes out shivering. “Go ahead.” Her nose brushes Raxë’s folds and she allows Zerya to guide her further down, holding her in place.

She is experienced, that girl. Her tongue is fast to find Raxë's nub and fixate on it, drawing circles around it. Raxë hums and she parts Zerya’s folds with her fingers, teasing her opening with her thumb as she nibbles gently as her clit too. Zerya sounds the way most prostitutes do: slightly too loud to the trained ear and voice always too close to delicate whimpers. With some luck, soon she’ll forget about sounding attractive and pleasant. Raxë likes women better when they sound wretched. So she pushes herself to please her as fast as she is able.

It’s wonderful when Raxë manages to make her gasp because it sends shivers down her spine. Raxë shifts the position of her fingers until she can press two of them inside her, rubbing her walls just a couple of inches inside. Zerya groans against her folds and tries to press her tongue inside her. She feels light and Raxë moves her hips slowly, not falling out of Zerya’s reach, up and down, riding her tongue and relishing in her still growing tusks brushing her every time she is at her lowest, without harming her.

Zerya’s thighs quiver when Raxë sucks at her nub. Her fingers are buried within her and they move against her sweet spot restlessly. The tip of Raxë’s nose touches her slit, stretched wide by her fingers. Zerya’s hands have moved to cup Raxë’s thighs and she feels like a zagaqasi porcelain doll when she pulls her legs even further open. The stretch is almost too much to endure but Raxë does. She has endured far worse outside the bedroom so what is the idea of a little muscle pain in a few hours in the face of pleasure?

The girl whimpers, breath caressing Raxë’s sensitive flesh, who closes her eyes tight for a moment to still her nerves. She can feel Zerya’s walls clenching around her fingers hungrily, as if to devour them, only driving them deeper. She can tell she is close by the sound of her voice, not nearly as cared for and refined as it was when they began.

Raxë knows from Zerya’s guttural sounds when she’s hitting her right where she needs her too. She hisses, sucking in Raxë’s nub when she rubs her fingertips harshly against her sweet spot and she is so soaked that Raxë thinks in her haze that she could fit her whole fist in if she so desired. She doesn’t. When she makes her partners stretch so much, Raxë prefers to look at their faces and kiss the corner of their eyes to comfort them.

Zerya manages a muffled deep groan that vibrates through Raxë’s dripping slit, almost bringing her to the brink too. Zerya’s stomach contracts and she digs her fingers into Raxë’s skin, leaving shallow nail scratches in her wake. Her legs shudder violently and her cunt seems to throb against Raxë’s fingers when she comes. She is messy, this girl. That’s good, Raxë doesn’t mind licking up a mess when she’s still close to sobbing from overstimulation, fingers still caressing her insides.

“You are doing extraordinarily, dear.” She mutters, blowing a hot breath that makes Zerya’s tender and flushed folds squeeze her fingers tighter inside her. “I promise I’ll be done with you soon but, please, keep going.” And, oh, how sweety does she hums pitifully, sucking at Raxë’s clit once again!

By the time Raxë’s finally done with her and they are clean, Zerya lies back down, clinging to her satin sheets to cover her delicious body in some ridiculous semblance of modesty as she dozes off again. Meanwhile, Raxë pours herself a glass of spiced herb liquor and walks to the room’s balcony. She can see Zagaqas’ main commercial harbor from here. Gorgeous.

The sun is finally rising in the east and that’s the sight Raxë had been waiting for the whole night. Zagaqas awakes at its fullest and Raxë takes a deep breath in. She can savor the spices and the incense lingering in the morning sea mist. The salt coming from the ocean. She sharpens her ear and listens to the roaring orders of ship captains, the vendors yelling sales at the marketplace. A group of barefooted children must be chasing chickens down in the musty rundown district where she was born. The poorest of them will stalk emancipated pidgeons for the 'Mystery Stew' some families serve in for the neighbors’ kids every day.

Somewhere else she can’t see, the most exotic and luxurious brothels in the world lay by the sea, most led by famous courtesans, free women and men and both of them at the same time or neither of them that have made company an art. Raxë finally opens her eyes and the blazing sun almost blinds her, thousands of colors emerging again as the city lights up. The sunrise sea is molten gold in the horizon and Zagaqas’ greed drinks it in every single morning, still howling for more at dusk when it sets down the west mountains and not-so-distant sun-colored sands. Around her, Zagaqas glitters like gold. Magnificent and ever rotting.

Raxë doesn’t spend her next night in the city who watched her brought into this world.

**Author's Note:**

> Raxë was my PC for a short 3.5 d&d run and she's currently dating one of her party members (same player who made Sauroticus) so this is set before the game.  
Zagaqas' setting is entirely my own and it's a problematic and corrupt city but an immensely beautiful place. Awful setting though and mildly depressing.


End file.
